Fallen Faith
by FAeOfDaRkNeSs
Summary: I never wanted to kill anyone, it was him or me! What would you have done in my place? No matter how many times she says that, no one believes her. Now she's on here way to Camp Green Lake, a ward of the state and their newest test dummy. (ZigzagOC)
1. Slow Maelstrom

This is my first Holes fanfiction. I tried to bring it along with the book's storyline, but some things are changed to fit my character in. I must warn you that the first part is pretty gory. A few parts in this story will be, but I'll try no to go over the top with it. I'm going to rate it PG-13, but if you think it should be raised to R because of the violence, just tell me. Personally, I don't think it's that bad, but, then again, I'm a bit dark. Constructive criticism is always welcome, but flames are not. I will delete flames, because they're just pointless. Some stuff in this story is real, but that doesn't really matter. I love reviews, so the more, the merrier!

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Chapter 1: Slow Maelstrom

He let out the most pitiful shriek as my nails sunk into his flesh. As my fingers wrapped around his windpipe, I ripped it out. His eyes glazed over, and his body gave these shudders like he was trying to breathe. That's kind of hard to do with your throat torn out.

When his body went limp, I pushed the fleshy mass off me. I guess that's what he gets for trying to rape me, the sick pervert. I was still in the janitor's closet that he dragged me into, so I used the huge sink to wash my hands off.

As his blood ran off my hands with the water, I stood mesmerized by it swirling down the drain. I thought about what I had just done. I had killed a man out of self-defense. Surely the judge would understand that he was sexually assaulting me. Yeah, right. I've had to deal with the judicial system of America more than once, and I know for a fact that the truth will not set you free. The truth hardly ever wins over big bucks.

By now, his blood was pooling around his head. Man, I never knew one body held that much plasma. I made the gross mistake of stepping in it on my way out.

With my bag in hand, I went back to the art room of my school, where I had been before pervy-boy grabbed me. It was only about 5 doors down from the now tainted janitor's closet. As I was putting up the unused materials and cleaning up what I never started, my arts teacher Ms. Swindez stuck her head in the doorway.

"Hey, ya done?" She asked when she saw me packing up. I nodded my head yes and headed to leave. Before I got too far, I turned around and looked her in the eyes.

"Do you believe in justice?"

She gave me an odd look before answering, "Yes, I do."

My face betrayed every emotion I felt when I replied.

"We'll see once this is all over."

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The heat in the back seat of the van was unbearable. I was in a straight jacket being rattled around the back of a van with no seats. With no choice but to sit on the hot metal floor, I tried to think about the past few years.

After I went to the principal's office to tell them where to scrape their teacher of the year off the floor, I went back out in the hall to the pay phones and call the cops to tell them what happened. They got to the school in record time. It's amazing how fast a bunch of fat guys can be with the right motivation. A doughnut, for instance, but that's getting off the subject. By this time, the teachers and secretaries had recovered form their shock enough to make sure I didn't try to run for it. I wasn't going anywhere, though. It's always worse when you run, so I sat on a bench and felt myself go comatose as I listened to the mind-numbing questions of why and the statements of how I was such a good student. I guess in their opinion, killing a sexual predator brought my GPA down a few points.

Hearing the commotion of sirens blaring and people sobbing in remembrance, Ms. Swindez came running down the hall. After almost being run over by cops and medics hoping to get to the body in enough time to save it, she got to the main lobby just in time to see me being cuffed and booked. We made eye contact. She now knew what I meant earlier.

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One huge bump brought me out of my reverie as I hit my head on a sharp corner. I was now lying on my side and, seeing as how my arms were wrapped up in the jacket, helpless to right myself. I did a funny kicking thing with my legs for about 2 minutes and I managed to sit myself up. With no help from the guard in the front seat, mind you. I didn't take too kindly to the fact that he was laughing at me the whole time.

"We'll be there in 5 minutes, Flipper."

Oh, ha ha. Nice nickname, you donkey's backside.

I was heading for Camp Green Lake. From what I'd heard, it was quite the hellhole. Frying in the sun for hours. Just thinking of the sun made me scared. I always got sick if I spent too much time in the sun. I pointed that out to the judge, but he said that all the female and juvenile prisons were full for miles around, so it's off to Green Lake I go.

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The guard threw open the back doors to the most blinding light. He was only a silhouette against the eyeball-searing sun. He yelled for me to get up and get out, where he took off my straight jacket and put me in handcuffs.

My arms were now pleasantly numb as I followed behind him towards, what looked like, a shed. When we reached it, the guard knocked and the stupidest-looking guy opened it. He was the worst cowboy reject I had ever seen. He opened the door wider to let us through, and my nose was hit with the overpowering smell of body odor. I resisted the urge to gag as I realized that I would smell it for the next year and a half.

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"Guess I can't say this ain't a Girl Scout camp anymore," said Mr. Sir while he handed the guard a drink. I wanted to roll my eyes at his pathetic attempt at humor, but I had already gotten a death glare from him for laughing at his name. Sitting behind his desk, he finished up the paper work the guard gave him when we came in. He spat out some sunflower seed shells on the already shell-littered floor. Thank God I had on shoes.

"Madge Estele Delaney. That's a name?" I gave him a warning look. After all, I murdered someone. I could do the same thing to him. He seemed to read my mind and dropped the subject.

"Here's the basics," he spat out more shells, "I've read your file. You're here because your sentence was dropped to manslaughter. Now, I don't care what you did. You're here now, and while you're here you follow the warden's rules. Just 'cause you the first girl to come to this camp don't make you nothin' special."

I already knew all this crap. I was just an experiment. Juvenile crime levels were rising, so they decided to try and co-integrate this all-boys camp. I happened to be the lucky guinea pig that the state needed.

He stood up and started to walk out. I was going to stay there until he noticed I wasn't following, but I figured now wasn't the time to be smart.

Because I was cuffed with my hands behind my back, my whole body was thrown off-angle. I stumbled as I tried to stand up, and thankfully the guard caught my arm. I muttered thanks to him and followed Mr. Sir to another shed. In here were a bunch of orange jumpsuits and canteens and lots of other crap. He grabbed two jumpsuits and some more junk and started explaining stuff to me, but I wasn't paying attention. After saying some stuff about changing clothes and showers, he tossed all the crap in the guard's outstretched arms.

"Where is everyone?" I asked him. For the first time, I noticed that the camp looked abandoned.

"Everyone's digging right now. No one'll be back for hours."

Now that scared me. The guard had uncuffed me and handed me my stuff and was about to leave. I didn't want to be alone with this old guy. I've never had any luck when it came to being around older guys. Even though it was in the past, I still didn't feel any better about it now.

Right as I was about to panic, I saw an outline of someone coming in the distance. The figure was so blurred at first that I thought it might be a mirage.

"Who's that?" Curiosity overcame me as he got closer to camp.

Mr. Sir looked up. "Aw, that's just Zero."

I looked at him, confused. "I thought you said that nobody'd be done for hours."

Sir slowly shook his head. "That kid's the fastest digger in the whole camp. He's a freak of nature."

Well that was real nice.

By now the van was already started up and the guard was sitting in the passenger seat. By the time they drove off, Zero had reached the camp. He was heading for a shed by the small building beside the tents. There were a bunch of racks and a few shovels inside. He put his shovel up and went off to another part of the camp.

"Where will I be?"

"You'll be in D-Tent. Can't remember what the D stands for, but your fruity councilor'll tell ya when he gets back from doin' water runs. D-tent was the only one that had an opening, so y'all should be glad you don't got 'ta go back to prison."

Actually, I would have preferred prison to this place. At least the place I was at had air conditioning.

"You're cot will be which ever one is empty. You might want to find out which is yours before you unpack. 'Til then, you can hang around in here or go to the rec room. Don't make no difference to me.

"Oh," he turned back around to face me, "Keep in mind that these boys ain't seen a girl their age in a good long time." He cracked a sadistic smile. "You'd best watch yourself."

I can't begin to tell you how creeped out I was by that comment, but since he was looking for a reaction, I didn't give him one.

He left disgruntled, thinking that his dig didn't sink in.

I sat on one of the cots and looked around. I was living my nightmare; living with guys. Sleeping in the same room with guys. Laying barely two feet away from a guy. I sighed and covered my face with my hands. This was going to be a long, frightening eighteen months.

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End of First Chapter


	2. Cold Silence

Thank you all who reviewed! I'm glad other people think my story is good. I'm sorry if my character seems a little 'out of character', but have faith in me. It's only the second chapter, so her personality is still developing.

I do not own Holes, any of its characters, or Alien 9 in any way.

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Chapter 2: Cold Silence

I was still sitting on the cot when Zero came in. His curly hair was sopping wet and drooping around his face. His jumpsuit was tied around his waist, showing his white wife beater shirt. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw me. Once he recovered slightly from the shock of seeing a girl, he slowly sat down on his cot, which happened to be right next to the one I was sitting on. He had a very intense gaze, and I was almost intimidated.

"Uh... hi," I felt that I should say something to him. "I'm Madge. I heard your name is Zero."

I was never good at small talk.

He just kept looking at me. It was so weird. His face showed no emotion. I looked at my hands, feeling uncomfortable in the silence; then I got an idea. I reached in my bag and pulled out some Japanese comic books.

"Do you like Manga?" I asked him, showing him a copy of Alien 9. Surprisingly, he nodded. I handed it to him, hoping that he wouldn't trash it. I had already learned that lending things to your prison mates isn't such a good idea if you expect to get it back, but, I don't know, I guess I wanted to trust the guy.

"Thanks."

I flashed a small smile, one of few I have to give. After zipping my bag up, I flung it over my shoulder and went looking for the rec room.

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My frustration was getting to me as I was looking for the stupid room Mr. Sir mentioned. I'd been wandering around, looking for it for almost ten minutes. Already, I was starting to feel sick from the sun. I don't know if I was trying to look around, or purposely avoid something. The place was too small to have much to look at.

Out of nowhere, I started to hear voices. I was afraid that maybe it was because of the sun; it wouldn't be the first time. Turning around, I saw three orange blobs on the horizon. I turned around and ran towards the rec room. I spared a glance at the figures walking towards the camp; they were getting closer. They were also getting rough, starting to push each other and yell, so I ducked inside hoping to avoid them. The boys here didn't know that a girl was coming, let alone that the state was planning to bring more if it was successful. I didn't want them to know until it was absolutely necessary.

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When I walked in, I noticed one thing; this place looked like crap. The sign wasn't lying when it said 'Wreck Room.' Sitting down on the lumpy couch, I felt my body sink down so low that my butt almost touched the ground. I stood up and sat on the armrest. At least this way I wouldn't end up gouging my eyes out with my knees.

I leaned back and closed my eyes. Since I wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, I might as well get used to it. My brain was buzzing. I remembered some AFI lyrics that I loved. I said them to myself, hoping to relax:

"We held hands on the last night on earth.  
Our mouths filled with dust, we kissed in the fields and under trees, screaming like dogs,  
bleeding dark into the leaves.  
It was empty on the edge of town but we knew everyone floated on the bottom of the river.  
So we walked through the waste where the road curved into the sea and the shattered seasons lay,  
and the bitter smell of burning was on you like a disease.  
In our cancer of passion you said, 'Death is a midnight runner.'

The sky had come crashing down like the news of an intimate suicide.  
We picked up the shards and formed them into shapes of stars that were like an antique wedding dress.  
The echoes of the past broke the hearts of the unborn as the ferris wheel silently slowed to a stop.  
The few insects skittered away in hopes of a better pastime.  
I kissed you at the apex of the maelstrom and asked if you would accompany me in a quick fall,  
but you made me realize that my ticket wasn't good for two.  
I rode alone.

You said, 'The cinders are falling like snow.'  
There is poetry in despair, and we sang with unrivaled beauty, bitter elegies of savagery and eloquence.  
Of blue and grey.  
Strange, we ran down desperate streets and carved our names into the flesh of the city.  
The sun has stagnated somewhere beyond the rim of the horizon and the darkness is a mystery of curves and lines.  
Still, we lay under the emptiness and drifted slowly outward,  
and somewhere in the wilderness we found salvation scratched into the earth like a message."

When I opened my eyes, there stood three guys in orange.

Great, didn't exactly want to put on a show.

The first to say something was a guy with, what looked like, a shirt on his head with a hat on top. "Man, I'm seeing things again. Please tell me I'm not the only one who sees a girl reciting poetry."

"Naw, man," said a Hispanic guy, " I see her, too. Ya think we got too much sun?"

This was getting old.

I stood up and walked over to the kid with the hat. I snatched it off and backhanded him.

"Ya feel that?" I asked him.

"Yeah, you brat!" He yelled back, holding his cheek while his eyes watered in pain.

I raised my eyebrow and smirked, "Then, just maybe, I am real."

The other two guys snorted with laughter. I can't help it; I can be very violent at times. Hence the reason I'm here, even though that was out of self-defense. I should rip off the judges' body parts. I'd probably start with his arms, then I'd sever… Sorry, I'm still a little bitter about that.

Once they recovered from their spastic fit, the Hispanic dude sat beside me on the couch. I tried to scoot over in the other direction, and he noticed, so he gave me my space.

Thank God for observant people.

The big black boy sat on the other armrest, and the moronic white guy walked over to the pool table. I looked beside me at an old chair Zero was sitting in.

Huh?

Dang, that kid was quiet.

"My name's Magnet. That's Armpit, and the guy you bitch-slapped is Squid."

I laughed at his interpretation of the situation. From what I could tell, I had severely bruised Squid's ego. Yeah well, he'd get over it. Just then, two more guys walked into the room. One had shoulder-length black hair, a lip and eyebrow piercing, dark brown eyes, and was pale and tall. The other was a little shorter and black. This guy had muscles upon muscles.

Hmm. The guys didn't look too bad here. I'd kill them the second they touched me, but no harm in looking.

The second guy quirked his eyebrow. "Finally got a girl here," he said to his friend. He had an evil glint in his eyes. "I can't wait."

Like I said, I hate when guys say things like that.

Magnet came to my rescue. "Hey, you piece of crap! Don't be saying stuff like that about her."

Bless him.

"You got a problem, squirt?" Mr. Muscle was now heading towards Magnet. Oh great. Why do guys have to start fights?

Armpit and Squid stepped up and defended Magnet.

"Come on, dawg, just lay off." Armpit spoke for the first time. "We're all tired."

The guy didn't look like he wanted to drop it, though. His pale friend quickly walked up to him and put his hand on his shoulder. He looked him dead in the eyes and said, "Drop it."

The big guy complied, but shrugged his friend's hand off and headed to the other end of the wreck room in a cursing fit. As his friend turned to follow him, he looked back at me and met my eyes. A huge chill went up and down my spine until he broke eye contact.

Man, that was weird.

I didn't feel like talking after that. That gothic guy gave me the weirdest feeling. I felt like crawling into my dark hole of a room and listening to my music.

Well, oops,_ that _ain't gonna happen.

The Three Musketeers went back to their respective sitting spots, with the exception of Squid, who was now standing closer. I looked at Magnet. He was again sitting beside me and I said, "Thanks," in a dull, flat voice. He didn't seem to notice my tone.

"No problem, girlie, that boy just don't got any manners, that's all." He said with a smile.

By now a few more boys were in the wreck room, ready to relax after taking a short, freezing shower, if it could be called that. Most responded to my being in there with shock, but some were too tired to care. With the coming of more people, Zero had decided to go back to the tent where it was quieter. I wished he would stay; I was starting to feel nervous around all these guys. He was the only one I felt comfortable around in this place.

When I was getting up to follow him, someone asked me my name. When I looked around, I saw it was Armpit who had asked me.

"Madge," I said simply, and sat back down.

They each gave me weird looks. "What kind of name is that?" Asked Squid.

"What kind of a name is Squid?" I asked defensively. He shrugged, but didn't answer.

"So, what tent you staying in?" Asked Magnet.

"I'm in D-Tent."

All three cracked identical grins.

Oh boy.

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Zero was lying flat on his stomach, looking the comic book I gave him when the rest of the D-Tent boys came in. I was still in the wreck room, feeling as annoyed as ever, so I didn't find out about this until later.

X-Ray, Barf Bag and Zigzag came into the tent still wet from their showers to see Zero reading. Well, not really reading; more like looking at the pictures.

"Whoah, man, where'd you get that?" Asked X-Ray and he snatched the book out of Zero's small hands. He made no fight for it, only sat quietly as X-Ray and Zigzag thumbed through the pages. Barf Bag passed out on his cot and fell asleep.

"How the heck did he get a comic book here?" X-Ray asked Zigzag.

Zigzag shook his head. He didn't know anymore than X did. 'No use in asking Zero,' he thought. 'He wouldn't talk if his life depended on it.'

He flipped to the back of the book, and just like he thought, a name was written on the bottom corner.

'Madge E. Delaney'

Zigzag's eyebrows drew together in confusion. That was a girl's name. Zero didn't have any family. He definitely didn't have a girlfriend, or at least he didn't think so. So who was Madge?

While they were trying to work that out, someone from C-Tent came charging in, out of breath.

"You guys have to come see this!" He said with a lopsided grin.

The two boys looked at each other once, and raced after the other camper to see what the big deal was.

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End of Second Chapter

The lyrics are from AFI's Sing the Sorrow album. The song is a hidden track at the end.


	3. Bitter Burning

Thanks again for the reviews. Oh yeah, someone mentioned that this storyline isn't very original, because one of the campers was going to fall in love with my character. So? Your point being… that everything has to be completely out of the ordinary to be good? Well, that may be your opinion. You're entitled to it, even if people don't agree with it. Thank you for the comment about my grammar. Anyway, here is chapter 3.

(P.S: I do fully realize that murder is too serious a charge to be sent to Camp Green Lake, but I explain in this chapter exactly how it is set up. Hopefully, I explained it well enough.)

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Chapter 3: Bitter Burning

The guys in the wreck room were still questioning me when they came in. It seems that Armpit opened the floor for questions when he asked me my name.

They bombarded me with inquiries of anything imaginable, from food and bands to news and gossip. I thought that girls were bad with this stuff, but these boys wanted to know about some of the dumbest things.

"What happened on Days of our Lives?"

This guy needed a new hobby.

"Is there a new Slipknot CD out yet?"

Um, I don't know.

"What size bra do you wear?"

Now, that one just made me mad. I gave the wise guy a look of pure malice. Besides, I didn't feel like killing another person. It definitely wouldn't help me out when my case would be re-reviewed in 6 months.

Most guys laughed the comment off, but a few were disgusted with him. Good, at least a few people have some decency around here.

That's when I noticed a boy with red hair standing near the door with two guys beside him, two guys I would soon come to know as X-Ray and Zigzag.

I won't deny that these guys were cute, but I was beginning to feel smothered in this place. It was a combination of the sun, the overly male population and the sentence, I guess. Knowing that eighteen months of this was ahead, I felt like going mad. Maybe I was overreacting, but I didn't want to take another minute of it.

I stood up quickly and exited the circle of boys that had formed. One playfully reached out and grabbed my ankle when I passed, but my reflexes made me kick him hard in the face. I think I broke his nose; that's usually what a crack indicates. He screamed in pain, and a few boys laughed.

I'm sorry. I don't like people touching me.

When I passed the three boys by the door, something made me stop. In the blond guy's hand was a comic book. My comic book. I looked at him and he held my gaze.

Strange. He was the second guy in an hour to not avert his eyes when I looked deeply at him.

Slowly, I reached out and took the book out of his hands, never breaking eye contact. If anyone was going to break contact, it wasn't going to be me.

"This is mine," I said, "I didn't give it to you. Why do you have it?"

"Oh," he looked sort of surprised, like he had broken out of a trance. "I took it from Zero. I didn't know it was yours."

He lost our "staring contest" and looked at anything but me. I was really mad at him, but the anger was pushed in the back of my brain when I remembered why I got up in the first place. I brushed past him and the others and went to the tent.

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All I wanted was a break from this roller coaster. No matter how many times I screamed, they wouldn't let me off. I needed to hit something. No, that wouldn't help. I just needed to lie down and cry. The last time I had really cried was the night I was arrested. I couldn't help it as the shock of the situation settled in.

My God, what had I done? I took a man's life with my bare hands! How could I be so terrible? That wasn't me. It couldn't have been me.

But it was.

That's why I'm here now. After three long years in jail, Victim's Assistance along with the District Attorney had finally gathered sufficient evidence to prove there was an attempted rape. The judge took that into consideration, but he still thought I could have gotten around killing him.

"Surely there was another way to get him to stop," the bitter old imbecile said at the most recent hearing. "You didn't have to take his life!"

My jaw broke of its own accord at that statement. How dense was he? That moron actually thought that I could have said, 'Gee, I really don't want to do this. Do you mind if you stop?' As if that worked when I tried it! I had screamed, kicked, begged, and prayed and he still kept going. During the first round of court dates, the lawyer appointed to me by the D. A. had fought fervently for me, convincing the jury that my safety was in danger. Maybe it was the fact that I was always quiet and passive during the trials, or it could have been the malicious way I killed the man, but when the verdict was read, the jury sentenced me to 5 years in a mental institution/prison during the first round. I felt like I had been slapped in the face. I was getting thrown in prison for almost being raped. Where was the justice? Not here, that's all I could say.

When the D. A. brought forth the new evidence, there was a whole new set of court dates. The media had a field day with it. I went from the "Little Killer" to the "Poor Victim." Personally, I hated both titles. I hated the attention the most. People were liable to get hurt. The photojournalist who had to have his camera surgically removed from his butt could testify to that. The judge still didn't quite believe my plea, so in the absence of a jury, I had the charges dropped down to manslaughter, and I got a year and a half here. Half a year dropped off my sentence, how generous.

I had reached the tent by now, so I climbed in and looked around. There was another guy in the tent besides Zero, but he was asleep.

Zero was lying on his cot, staring at the ceiling. When I walked inside, I knelt down beside him and held out the comic book. He looked at me for a while, and then took the book out of my hands. He didn't smile with his lips, but I could see it in his eyes. I had made my first friend at Camp HellHole.

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Someone was shaking me. Hard. My eyes shot open and I sat up in my cot.

"Ow!" I heard someone shout.

My head was throbbing. I had inadvertently head-butted Squid when I sat up. Poor guy. He was constantly the victim of my violence.

"Damn it, girl! What did I ever do to you?" He hissed in pain. "Geez!"

I swallowed a sob and stood up. We were alone in the tent, and I didn't remember falling asleep. I knew it was just my paranoia getting to me, but my mind was racing with scenarios of what could have happened. Had I just fallen asleep, or did something happen to me? Did someone try to hurt me?

Stop it, I told myself. Quit with the paranoid crap.

"What do you want?" I asked Squid after I took a deep breath.

He glared at me, covering his throbbing nose with one hand. "The bell rang for dinner. I was trying to wake you up to tell you."

Oh. Well, that was good. I was hungry after the ride over here. It took over eight long hours to get here, and I hadn't eaten anything beforehand.

I wiped my eyes and followed Squid out of the tent to the mess hall. I hadn't changed into my orange jumpsuit yet, so I was wearing the only real clothes I had with me in prison, a pair of purple plaid capris and a black tank top. The same outfit I was wearing that day, 3 long years ago. They had done a pretty good job getting the blood stains out, though...

When I walked inside the building, I was overwhelmed by the number of boys. I felt another panic attack coming along, but I choked it down and walked to the food line. I grabbed a tray, and walked down the line, the whole time being stared at by the servers. When I reached the end, the whole room went quiet. The boys who hadn't seen me before were now staring at me, having God knows what running through their minds. Mercifully, a guy from the D-tent table called me over.

When I got to the table, all the guys scooted over for me to sit by them. Except Squid, of course. We had established a feud. Besides, I had given him a black eye with my head butt, and he wasn't in a forgiving mood.

I slowly walked closer, and looked at Zero. He was smiling at me, slightly. He was sitting next to Magnet, so I figured I was safe. I set my tray down and sat between them.

"I'm X-Ray," said a boy with thick dirty glasses. Man, how could he see through those things? "What did you do to get here?"

I looked him dead in the eyes.

"I ripped out his throat."

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End of Third Chapter

I'm starting to write a Harry Potter fanfiction, so I may post it on this site soon. I'll definitely keep this one going, though. I'm sorry if it seems to be progressing slowly, just have patience, please. Ok, well, please review and tell me what you think so far. Just no flames, I'll delete those.


	4. The Blackest Tears

Dear **antiIRONY**,

Obviously, you have never been raped, nor had someone attempt to rape you before. And yes, it is quite disturbing. That's life, sweetie, and it doesn't always give warnings like I did. I plainly stated that this story was going to be disturbing in the beginning, so that if you didn't want to read something like that, you couldn't say I hadn't told you. It may not make sense to you to have someone sent to a low-security facility for manslaughter, but hey, this world is already so screwy, why not? It honestly wouldn't surprise me. She had spent time in prison for 3 years, until it was proven that she acted out of self-defense. I'm no expert on American laws, but I know that manslaughter is what it is called if it was an accident, self-defense, something like that. Anyhow, I wanted to make sure that I cleared that up (as best as I could, anyway.)

NEXT TOPIC!

This chapter was co-written by Story of the Year. (Not exactly, more like the music helped me with the mood.) I give them credit for the title and parts of the text.

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Chapter 4: The Blackest Tears

They all looked at me with blank faces.

"Um," Magnet stuttered quietly. "So, you're tellin' me that you killed a guy to get here?"

I nodded my head slowly. I knew they wouldn't understand. It's all so complex and long-winded, it frustrates me just to try and sort it out in my head. Better to let them think I'm a cold-blooded killer than to go into the painful details.

"Why?" Squid asked simply.

"Uh..." Did I really want to get into this? I mean, what would it really accomplish?

"It's…um, complicated…"

"Well," said the tall, gangly blond boy sitting across from me, "we've got time. It's not like we're going some place interesting anytime soon."

I looked up at him. He was incredibly tall, even when he was sitting down. I focused on his face. He had a strange look in his eyes that I couldn't really decipher. I wondered what he was thinking.

"What's your name?" I asked him, trying to change the subject.

"Zigzag. Now, no changing the subject, why did you kill somebody?" Wow. He caught on fast.

I sighed. They weren't going to give up now. Why didn't I just keep my big mouth shut…

"Like I said, it's complicated."

I really didn't want to do this.

"He was my teacher," I said.

They gave me expectant looks. Too bad, guys. My lips are sealed.

"And…?" asked Magnet.

I gave him a withering look. I had expected better of him than to pry a girl for information. He sort of shrunk back, but you could tell he was still curious; they all were. I sighed, but offered no more details. You have to earn my trust. Rarely, someone slips past my defenses for unknown reasons. Who knows how, or why. But once they're in, it's hard to get them out.

I looked down at my tray of food. It looked like a smear of barf in many different colors. My appetite disappeared in an instant.

Pushing my tray back, I looked around the mess hall. I seemed to be old news, because no one was gawking at me openly anymore. Thank God for that. I hate being the center of attention. Like I said, someone is liable to get hurt. The guys were eating slowly, still absorbing the minimal info I had provided. Zigzag kept giving me sideways glances, thinking I didn't see. 'Leave me alone, dude,' my brain warned, 'Don't even think about it.'

I stood up and walked towards the door. Before I even reached the next table, I got a weird feeling. I looked around me, trying to shake the chill that had settled on my spine. My eyes stopped on C Tent's table. There he was; the source of my discomfort. It was the guy who had stopped the black guy from beating the crap out of Magnet. He was staring at me, and everything else seemed to disappear.

'What are you doing to me?' I thought.

> > > > >

I ran out of the mess hall as fast as I could. I had broken out in a cold sweat and was breathing heavily, not to mention scared out of my mind. What just happened back there? He was just staring at me. It felt like my mind was melting away…

Angry tears were streaming down my face as I continued to run. Oh God, I had to get out of here. How dare he invade my head like that! I don't know how he did it, but I hoped he never did it again.

I found myself at the showers. 'Why not?' I thought. I put a shower token that was in my pocket in the slot and stepped fully clothed under the stream of water. My breath left my chest when the water hit my skin. Oh, it felt so good. I could barely breath, it was so cold, but it was bliss.

By now, the only warm thing about my body was the hot tears pouring down my face. I've never felt so vulnerable. Well, that wasn't exactly true…

I've never felt safe, actually. Not when I was a little child, or even as I grew up. How should I put this… Um, my childhood was… painful? Man, that sounded Movie of the Week. The truth was that my mother was basically non-existent. She left my father and me when I was about 2. Because of that, I had very little female influence. Even so, I wasn't really tomboyish because of it.

That wasn't what scarred my body for all eternity, though. No, that was my father's doing. He was all right sometimes, I guess. I mean, he let me do what I wanted to most of the time. But the whole problem was this: he was sick. I don't mean like fever-sick, I mean perverted-sick. He was completely evil. The worst part is, no one knew about it.

He would make me do things; terrible, horrible things. He would touch me like no father should his daughter; say things to me that no man had any right to say to a woman, especially an innocent little girl. He was sick, plain and simple. The things I had to endure…

This train of thought brought a whole new wave of tears, but now I had no water to wash them away. My shower had ended, and I didn't want to use another shower token on my first day. 'God,' I prayed, my eyes closed tightly, 'How could you let this happen?'

> > > > >

After my shower, I had stood there for a long time. A few hours, actually. My mind couldn't get off the subject that it had painfully brought up. My body felt paralyzed in the stall, and my mouth was numb. I wasn't cold from the water anymore. No, this cold went down deeper, burying itself in my bones. It was unrelenting, and I would just have to endure it until it felt like leaving.

_So swallow the knife…_

No one had come by while I was there. I had heard distant voices that one could only assume came from the wreck room. I tried to ignore them, but they kept shattering any chance I had at concentrating. When they finally died away, I left the showers. 'Maybe they're all asleep,' I thought hopefully.

_Carve the way for your pride…_

All was so deadly quiet in the arid desert landscape. It was stifling, even at night. It seemed even too hot for the lizards to exist. How was someone expected to breath, let alone dig, in these conditions?

_Now our hands are tied…_

Pushing the tent flap aside, I saw that all the tent members were sitting in a circle with some older man I didn't recognize. One word I had promised myself I would never use came to mind that described him perfectly. 'Lame-o.' I shuddered. It was freaky how well it fit.

_The problems lie within…_

"Well, hello there, Madge. I'm Mr. Pendanski. We were wondering where you'd gotten off to. Thought maybe you'd falling into a hole!" He laughed at his own joke. I just stared at him blankly. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. I kept staring at him. A few of the guys snickered. 'And... what is the point of this?' I asked myself. I'd already had a pretty full day, and this idiot wasn't doing anything I considered important.

_So we pray for night…_

I walked over to my bed, hair sopping, and fell onto my cot, plunging into sleep.

_To start over again…_

> > > > >

> > > > >  
End of Fourth Chapter

I'm sorry if it seems I'm making her life too complicated, but it makes perfect sense to me. People's lives are layered so tightly with good and bad things, and that makes them who they are. In this case, she's had a lot more bad than good. She's been messed up, but it doesn't make her a bad person. (Didn't mean for that to come out sounding so Pendanski-like.) Anyway, please continue to review and I'll continue to write. (Even if no one reviews, I'm still going to write it. I'm doing this for myself, no one else.)

(I'm going to start posting information about my stories on my profile. If I do not update for a while, click on my name, and hopefully I'll have written up there what's going on. I'll also state if I'm writing any new stories, or if I'm having any problems with already published ones.)


	5. Soft Shadows

Thanks again for the reviews. I wanted to respond to something that someone said. (First off, I want to point out that I made a big mistake in my math. So, this is the correction.)

For some reason, I assumed when I read the book that the longest a sentence can be at CGL is 18 months, no matter what the charge. Maybe I'm wrong in assuming that, but my character, Madge, only has that much time left on her sentence, anyway. First off, she was sentenced to an institution for the criminally insane for 5 years. She spent 3 years there, then evidence was found that she was about to be raped and she was only defending herself, the judge then lowered her sentence by 6 months, making the total 4 ½ years. (She was charged with MANSLAUGHTER, not murder.) So that leaves 18 months to spend locked up, and then she's free. (36 months + 18 months equals 54 months, which becomes 4 ½ years!) Okay, now if anyone notices anything screwy with my math this time around, please tell me! I already feel like a fool for making this previous mistake…

> > > > >

> > > > >  
Chapter 5: Soft Shadows

My head was swimming, completely dislodged from my body. At least, that's what it felt like. I was awoken to the sounds of shuffling and loud voices. You'd think they'd have some courtesy for those still sleeping.

Yeah, good luck getting _anywhere _thinking like that.

I groggily opened my eyes in the darkness. It was so dark that I'd be lucky to see the pillow my face was buried in.

"You up yet, girlie?"

I recognized the voice as Magnet's. What I really wanted to do was flick him off and tell him to go screw himself, but I just mumbled, "Yeah, I guess."

Someone laughed and said, "That was awesome last night! I can't believe you dissed Mom like that. You should have seen his face!"

I pushed my upper body off my cot and looked for a face to match with the voice. I didn't recognize it at all. But I couldn't see anything, so I just flopped back down tiredly.

"That was pretty funny," said another voice, this one I recognized as X-Ray's. "You probably should have stayed up, though. Mom was just trying to be nice." The laughter in the back of his voice indicated that he didn't much care about "Mom's" feelings.

I just grunted. Grunting was the only language I knew this early in the morning.

"Come on," Squid said. He jerked at the thin blanket I had wrapped around my entire body. "You have to get up now."

I didn't want everyone to think that I was whiny, so I got out of bed without so much as a sound.

Where was my stuff? I was trying to find my bag, but I was tripping over things I didn't even want to know the identity of. There were jumpsuits and other little things strewn all over the floor, and now I had a real idea of how messy guys were to live with.

This is definitely going to take some getting used to.

I found my bag on the other side of my cot. My eyes were slightly better adjusted to the dark, so I could make out basic shapes. The tent wasn't as big on the inside as it looked on the outside, so every few seconds I brushed against a guy. Now, if I were a normal boy-giddy girl, I would have been giggling and squirming. But I, being the prude that I am, was just squirming. I was ready to run out of there, straight into the desert, and never look back.

"Sorry," I heard someone say as I felt an arm brush against mine. I'm pretty sure it was Zigzag who said it, but I was tired, and trying to decipher voices in the early morning isn't my favorite task. What time was it anyway? I looked at my watch.

Oh yeah. That woman took it from me when she searched my stuff. You'd think I would have remembered that…

"You might wanna hurry up." Squid's voice rose over the voices outside. "Mr. Sir's gonna want us out there soon. Hurry up and get changed."

Changed? Woo, here's a good question, where am I going to change at? Over my dead body was I stripping down in front of everyone!

"Uh, yeah, about that," I said, feel apprehensive. "Where exactly am I supposed to change clothes?"

Ugh, I could hear the grin in his voice when X-Ray cut in and said, "Looks like you'll have to change right here."

I shot him a look in the darkness. He couldn't see it, I knew, but I'm pretty sure he felt the aggravation pouring off me in waves.

"Look," I started possibly the longest sentence I've said since I've been here. "I'm not changing in a room filled with guys. I'll just find another place to dress." I pushed up the tent flap, but stopped when I saw who was standing near the tent entrance. Gothic Guy was right outside, facing the opposite direction. The sparse lamplight was casting eerie shadows against the ground, and also playing off his sharp facial features. I gasped and ducked back inside the tent.

"What's wrong?" Asked Armpit. I just sat back down on my cot. Forget this. It's dark, I can't see them, and they can't see me. Besides, I don't want to walk out there by myself if he's standing right there. I unbuttoned my pants and let them fall to my ankles.

Oh, God don't let them be able to see me.

My shirt was tossed aside after I pulled it over my head. I quickly slid on my orange suit and again prayed that no one saw anything. It felt like canvas against my skin. It was so uncomfortable.

Zigzag, Magnet, and Squid were the only ones left after I was done dressing, so I waited until they started to walk out and followed them. They pushed the flap up, and Gothic Guy turned around. I hid myself beside Magnet, and hoped that he couldn't see me. The guy looked around. He was lookingfor something. I don't know why, but I felt like he was looking for me, and it freaked me out.

> > > > >

I made it safely to the rest of the campers without any confrontations with the creepy Gothic Guy. Don't get me wrong; I don't think there's anything wrong with being Goth. Some people consider me Goth, with my dark clothes, pale skin, and morbid fascination with pain. But if you ask me, people are way too concerned with the outside.

I honestly don't know what I am, except for royally messed up. I've had some freaky crap happen to me, and that has resulted in me being mentally off-key. After many years, I have finally convinced myself that I am insane. But hey, who isn't insane to some extent these days?

Breakfast, I soon found out, left much to be desired. This morning, it was some honey wrap-type thing. It looked disgusting. Magnet told me that some days you'd get lucky and they'd serve soggy cereal. But, I had no appetite for food this morning. Gee, I wonder why?

I grabbed my tortilla off the tray when I got through the crowd of boys, thinking about what was going to happen today. Today was the day when I would dig my infamous first hole. Yeah, I had heard some guys talking about it last night during dinner. Supposedly, it was the hardest. Of course, someone else countered that the second was worse, because you're so sore from the first day. I wasn't looking forward to either.

I looked down at my meager breakfast, and was wondered if it was safe enough to take a bite from. The wrap was an off-color, and I'm pretty sure that honey isn't supposed to have a greenish tint to it.

"There is no way I'm eating this," I said under my breath.

"I'd re-think that, if I were you."

A voice from behind startled me into almost dropping my food. I turned around, and who'd of guessed it, Gothic Guy was standing about a foot away from me.

"Out here," he said, locking eyes with me, "You take any and all food given to you, no matter how bad it looks or tastes. Because you never know," his eyes traveled to my neck. "It may be your last meal."

Okay, I now know how to be creeped out in 5 different languages.

"Is that supposed to be a threat?" I squeaked out, in what I was hoping to be my 'Brave Girl' voice.

He cracked a toothy grin. "Not in the least."

At this point, I was wondering if I should be afraid. Ha, not like I already wasn't. By now I needed a clean jumpsuit. But I was trying to contemplate if this boy was a threat or not.

"Your fear is amusing. But no, that wasn't a threat, just fair warning." He gave a little giggle.

Then, he leaned down; his face now level with mine. His eyes were so incredibly, well, brown. But for some reason, there seemed to be something lying below the surface, something that I couldn't place right off.

That's when it hit me; it was hunger.

Not a physical hunger, though. This was a primeval, ferocious undertone. It was the same look a lion gets in its eyes, right before it mauls its prey. That same look a shark gets, right before it rips an unsuspecting swimmer to shreds. But something in me knew: I did not want to know what he hungered for.

"Look," I backed away slowly. "Why are you doing this? Why are you talking to me?" All right, a little late for that question, but I was just trying to buy time. I turned away from his gaze, trying to regain my breath.

"Well," he smiled, almost sweetly, "Somebody has to look out for you."

What?

"Hey, I don't need-"

I turned back around, and he was gone. I turned around in circles, but he was nowhere.

Dang, and I thought I was bizarre.

> > > > >

I was shaking when I met up with the rest of D-Tent. My breakfast was barely hanging in my hand as I walked, mouth open, towards the group. Zero was standing apart from the rest, but he was right at my side when he saw the look on my face. His eyes asked me what his mouth would not, 'Are you alright?' My head nodded, but my heart was still beating way too fast for its own good.

Barf Bag was the next one to notice me nearly in tears. He got Magnet's attention and whispered, "Is she alright? She's not lookin' too good…"

Once everyone else noticed my current status, they tried to comfort (well, I _guess _you could call it comfort) me as well as a bunch of juvenile delinquent boys could. X-Ray tried to put his arm around me, but I cringed away from the gesture. I wasn't ready to have a guy touch me yet, even as a sign of comfort. He took it personally though, and jerked his hand back. "Don't have to be such a bitch about it…"

That one little comment stopped any possibility of more tears. I slowly raised my head and looked at him, swelling ire evident in my watery eyes. My jaw was clenched, and I was shaking, this time from anger. He looked down at me warily.

I leapt on him like a wildcat. The look of shock on his face was all the consolation I needed, so I jumped off him, leaving him lying spread eagle on the dirt. I brushed my hands off, and didn't even attempt to salvage my breakfast that I had dropped to the ground when I attacked. It was dusty now, and had a footprint on it. I walked away from the surprisingly small crowd that had gathered, and no one dared say a word to me. Everyone was getting ready for something, so I assumed that it was almost time to head out to the lakebed.

When I got to the 'Library', the councilor from last night handed me a shovel, without so much as a syllable from his lips. I guess he was still sore about last night.

Well, gosh darn golly gee-whiz. Get over it.

D-Tent were getting their shovels, now that I was a safe distance away. I heard someone ask, "Hey Mom, where's my shovel?"

"Sorry, Rex. You took too long to come and get it, so I gave it to another camper." After a second or two of silence, Mom asked, "Rex, how'd you get that lump on the back of your head?"

Another second of silence. "I slammed the tent door on it."

> > > > >

> > > > >  
End of Fifth Chapter

These past few weeks have been a nightmare (to the fullest extent of the word). I'm, uh, "incapacitated" yet again, so I haven't been able to get on the internet in forever (you kind of, you know, need a PHONE LINE to connect), and when I can get on at the library, they won't allow anyone to use floppy disks or upload anything, so I haven't got the chance to update my stinking story. I'm still working on my Harry Potter fanfic, but it isn't ready to publish yet. Please don't give up hope on me! I'm trying the best I can. Wish me luck.

(Also, the title of the chapter is the same as a line in a Blink-182 song. This is a coincidence! I've recently played the CD till there's a hole in it, and I heard those lyrics. Just so you know!)


	6. Graceful Darkness

Thank you everyone who reviewed! I received some very nice comments about my grammar, but just to warn you, I no longer have a program with spell check, so I may make a few more mistakes than usual. Please keep reading and reviewing, it makes my day.

> > > > >

> > > > >  
Chap 6: Graceful Darkness

We were following Mr. Dancey out to the lakebed. I was again letting my mind wander on my memories.

When I had found out that I was going to be sent to Camp Green Lake, I knew absolutely nothing about the place. I was eventually filled in when my stuff was being searched before I was put on the van over here.

I was sitting silently in a chair in the corner of a stark white room, with only a ratty old desk and one other chair around me. The lighting was so harsh that I saw stars for almost an hour. As usual when I left my cell/room, I was in these padded handcuffs, so I just sat with my eyes downcast as a female staff member (guard) searched my bag.

Not that it matters, but I liked her; she didn't treat me like I was the total whack job that I sometimes felt I was. She reminded me a lot of Ms. Swindez, back at my school. Maybe that's why I didn't mind her talking to me.

"So you leaving here, chica?" She asked me as she went through a Ziploc bag that held my toothbrush and toothpaste.

I gave something that resembled a nod, but she understood.

"Ah, well don't let it get you down." She was done with that bag, and went on to unfold my clothes, looking for hidden items. "I can't say it's a good place you're goin' to, but you'll be ah'ight."

I had wished I could believe her, but I was going into this so blindly, I didn't know what to expect.

When I worked up the strength to speak, I asked, "Is it… really that bad there?"

She stopped what she was doing, and looked at me for a minute. Her hazel eyes searched mine, and then she put my shirt down and turned to face me.

"Honey, let me just say I've heard alotta bad things about that place, as far as the work and treatment. I've met the woman who runs it, and I think she deserves to be sittin' in this place a lot more than you do. Seeing as how you feel about boys, I think the stupidest thing these people can do is send you off to a work camp with nothin' but male inmates." The thought made my heart go into overdrive. How could they expect me to handle this?

"But, Madge, you gotta remember that you're stronger than you think. You been put through the ringer, but you survived. Don't give up now, got it, chicki?"

I nodded as best I could. I had almost cried then. Almost.

> > > > >

My shovel scraped on the dry ground, making the only noise in the dark air. My hair was loose, and kept falling into my downcast eyes as I walked. Someone yawned, and someone else sneezed. No light shown through the blackness other than the councilor's flashlight.

After a few more minutes of walking, the councilor guy stopped and turned his flashlight off.

"Alright, everybody," he said. "You know what to do."

Actually, I didn't know what to do. But there was no chance in hell that I was gonna say something. He pointed to each guy in turn and marked a spot for each of them. I assume this was where he wanted them to dig.

"And you," he turned to me and flicked the flashlight on, shining it right in my face. "You just remember this: Do as I say. Keep that in mind, everything'll go smoothly. Got that?"

Wow, this guy knew the meaning of a 180 degree turn. What happened to the gooey-goody act? He was giving Mr. Sir a run for his money. I didn't say anything, just looked away from the horribly bright light.

Whether he accepted my silence or not, he pointed the beam at a patch of dirt and scraped the heel of his tennis shoe across the ground. "You dig here." he said simply, and started back towards camp.

I set my canteen down on the ground and plopped down beside it. Everyone stared at me like I was nuts.

News Flash! I am.

"You might want to start digging now," a smooth voice stated. "It gets worse as the day goes on."

> > > > >

I finally stood up when everyone started to dig. Sighing, I picked my shovel up and tried to stick it in the ground. Everyone had started by now, except X-Ray. He was just standing there, looking towards me with barely veiled irritation. Unusual as it was for me, I stared back. If he insisted on being obnoxious 24/7, why not give him a taste of his own medicine?

After a few minutes of this pointless exercise, everyone started to catch on to our little game. Squid stopped shoveling and asked, "X, man, what's wrong?"

X-Ray only continued to stare.

This was so dumb.

I gripped the shovel firmly and placed the tip on the ground. With a massive leap, I jumped on top of the shovel blade, praying it would sink into the rock solid earth. Nope. Barely even scratched the surface.

Aw, crap. This is gonna take a while.

While I made futile attempts to break the ground, X-Ray kept staring at me. Finally, I couldn't take anymore.

"_What_ do you _want_?" I gripped the shovel tighter in my hand, ready to throw it straight for his lumpy skull.

"I want _my _shovel back."

His_ shovel_? Was that all he was pouting about?

"You've gotta be kidding me..." I said under my breath.

I was pissed off at this little wimp. Who pitches a fit about a shovel? I stormed over to him, snatched the shovel out of his hand, and flung "his" shovel into the darkness.

"Go fetch, _Rex._"

> > > > >

Needless to say, I was now on two bad lists; Squid's, and X-Ray's. X's was the one that bothered me the most. He appeared to be the leader, and now that he didn't like me, I wondered what would happen.

I gave digging another shot, but I bounced off every time.

Come on, I'm not _that _skinny.

I tried scraping the metal blade against the ground, but it took off barely a half-inch of dirt.

"Find a crack."

I looked around to see Zigzag looking at me. "Find a crack," he repeated.

Before I could look at him oddly, he pointed to a crack in the ground less than a yard away from my foot.

Sighing in defeat, I walked over the spot and sunk my shovel into the ground. Why didn't I think of that before?

> > > > >

By the time the sun started coming up, I had a hole maybe a foot and a half deep. This was way harder than it looked. The dirt was bone dry and rock solid, not to mention I was feeling the effects of not eating for about two days. As I went to slice another chunk of dirt from the side, I heard a flurry of curse words from beside me.

Magnet was stomping around his hole, which was much deeper than mine. Every curse word under the sun, in two separate languages, came flying out of his mouth.

"What the heck is wrong with you, man?" Zigzag said as all the guys climbed out of their holes. As they got closer, one by one they burst into laughter. I stepped up out of my hole and walked over.

What I saw almost pushed me to the point of vocal laughter. This tough, teenage felon was going nuts because a spider had fallen into the hole with him.

"Help me up!" He was shouting at everyone, but since every guy was doubled over and shaking in laughter, he was left quite on his own. Without thinking, I reached my hand down and helped him climb up. Spouting off more unintelligible Spanish, he shuddered and dusted his hands off.

"Thanks, girlie," he swept me up in a hug, and I let out a shriek.

"Oh," he let me go and had the decency to look remorseful. "Sorry, I forgot."

I guess my body language had told them I didn't like physical contact. Well, or it could have been the fact that I had jumped X-Ray for touching me. I wonder...

Meanwhile, everyone was still choking on unyielding mirth. Bits of sentences would escape their lips between bubbles of laughter, things like, "So pathetic!" or "Saved from the big bad spider... by a girl!".

Magnet's dark skin blushed pink, and I almost felt sorry for him.

"That thing was about to bite me!" He defended himself as the giggles died down.

"Oh, nice excuse, dude, you were about to piss your pants!" Squid told him. "I thought you liked animals."

"Well, yeah," he admitted, "but not spiders! Stop laughing!"

X-Ray and Squid were leaning against each other, choking on fresh peals of laughter. I figured this was enough gaiety for one day, so I headed back for my hole.

> > > > >

About an hour passed by, and I was close to fainting. I was getting way too much sun. I guarantee when I finish digging, I'll have rashes and heat exhaustion. I _told _them I got sick from the sun. My _lawyer _told them I got sick from the sun. But does anybody listen? No.

Everyone was getting tired; you could see it. They were slowing down, and it was only still morning. I felt as if I'd melt if I didn't get any shade. My arms were burning with the strain, but I still had hours to go. I was a few feet from the right depth, but I still had to widen the blasted hole. I decided that before I went any deeper, I'd make it wide enough first.

D-Tent was talking about the weather. A common topic in the middle of Hell, I guess. Somehow, the subject swung over to fellow campers. I don't know what possessed me, but, out of nowhere, I asked, "Who's the guy with the long black hair? Really pale? Lip and eyebrow piercings?" It had been bothering me ever since I first saw him; who _was _he?

Magnet giggled. "Oh, you mean _Alice_?"

Ok, I knew they had a thing for nicknames around here, but how would someone look at him and think, 'Alice'?

"His name's Albus, dude," Zigzag said as he sliced into the ground again.

"Yeah man, I know," Magnet looked offended and he flung a shovel full of dirt over his shoulder, narrowly missing Zero's hole.

Why would they call him Albus? It was odd, considering monikers like Armpit and Barf Bag,

As if reading my mind, Squid cut in, "The head guy in their tent wanted to be an English major, so he's got a thing for Latin and literer, litorical, liti-"

"Literary?" I helped.

I guess the look on his face meant he didn't like to be corrected, but instead he said, "Yeah, Latin and literary names." I just nodded.

"Yeah, I was wondering about that," Magnet looked up as if remembering something. "Why were you hiding behind me this morning? Did it have somethin' to do with him?"

I see; the tables have turned. Now it was my turn to dish out the information.

"No reason," I said.

I wasn't going down without a fight.

Magnet stopped digging and looked at me. Stared, actually.

I _hate _it when people stare at me.

I was just about to scream at him when I felt a stinging pain in my ankle. I looked down and saw that a scorpion had fallen into my hole and stung my left ankle. It burned like hell, and I felt tears involuntarily well up in my eyes. I looked up in defeat and let out a noise like a strangled, wounded animal as I felt my whole leg go numb. Everyone turned to look at me as I pulled myself up onto the side of my hole. The top of his head barely visible over the edge of his hole, X-Ray called out, confused, "What's up?"

I ignored him, but threw my shovel away from me, its sharp tip almost grazing Zigzag's head.

I was alternately cradling and smacking my ankle, trying to get some feeling in it. Zero, Squid and Zigzag were the first to reach my hole, and upon further inspection they saw a very angry scorpion scurrying around the bottom, trying to escape. I continued to suppress my screams, but my Lord, it hurt. Why did all these psycho-bugs pick today to fall into our holes?

"Ouch..." Zigzag said under his breath. I don't know why, but every word he said was starting to get on my nerves. Maybe it was the pain. Or maybe it was the fact he was a boy. That was two strikes against him.

"Think she'll be all right?" Squid was hovering over me, asking X-Ray about my ankle. X just shrugged and kept on digging. _Somebody's _got an attitude problem.

"She can probably last till the water truck comes around." Barf Bag had spoken up from his hole. Armpit had just walked up to the others and countered, "Naw, man. When I got stung by that scorpion, I thought I was gonna die!" If you ask me, that was a gross understatement; but for the time being, a good enough description. "I don't think anyone could last that long in that kind of pain."

In the meantime, my whole left side was going numb, concentrating heavily on my joints. Maybe the heat was getting to my head, but all I could think was, "Kill the damn thing." It came out in a whisper.

"What?" Squid asked.

"I said kill the damn thing."

"I'll do it," Zigzag said. He grabbed his shovel from inside his hole and brought it back over to mine. While I'm trying not to move my maddeningly sore ankle, he takes the sharp end of his shovel and stabs at the scorpion scuttling around the bottom of my shallow hole. After a few tries, he manages to split it in two. He them scoops it out and tosses it to my right.

I start to feel nauseated. Some of the guys are discussing what they should do, if anything. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a twitching. I look over and see that the scorpion is still alive, slightly. I reach over and grab the handle of my shovel. Since my left side is numb, I use my right arm to drag myself closer to the two jerking halves. With one hand, I lift the shovel high in the air. I then proceed to bring it down repeatedly on what remained of the demonic creature.

Over the loud banging of the metal, I hear Armpit say, "She's lost it."

Then I pass out in the dirt.

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End of Sixth Chapter

I wanted to respond to something **Xylem** said in a review: First off, I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter. Even though I haven't taken offense, I just wanted to say that not all Goths are fascinated with death and despair, nor are all of them Satanists. I myself am Goth (I guess you could say), but I am Christian. Like I said, I'm not offended, but I also want to say that that isn't how Albus is either. The secret will be out soon enough...

All right, well, review and tell me what you think, please. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, because it's all I have for a while. Who knows, I may get a streak of creative inspiration and write a whole chapter! Anyways, if you like Harry Potter, read the two short stories I have posted as well. Do whatever you like! But please resist the urge to flame, unless you have something constructive to say.


	7. Malign Memories

Hey everyone. Sorry it's been a while, but I've had bursts of inspiration, and I've written my first fanfic with real people, aka The Used and MCR. Yes, yes I know, way overused subjects, but you can blame that on my twin sister, Stormbringer91. For a few shameless plugs and info on stories I've written on other sites, visit my profile page. Thank you VERY much, everyone who reviewed, it means a lot to me.

WARNING:

This chapter is going to be violently graphic like the first, so if you don't want to read anything dark like that, go away now. Things happen in this chapter that are important to the flow of the story. Now, here is chapter 7.

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Chapter 7: Malign Memories

I was trying to push myself out of the smothering darkness. It felt like my ankles and wrists were tied together, and no matter how hard I kicked out, my legs didn't move. My breathing was becoming irregular, and I struggled to open my eyes.

I could hear faint whispers in the distance. My eyes were still shut, but I could see something moving. It got closer and closer, and I tried to scream when I saw what it was; the face of Michael Richards, my Earth Science teacher.

My now dead Earth Science teacher.

His sandy blond hair was matted with blood, and his sun-darkened skin was marred by scratches from someone's nails. My nails. The same crazed look that filled his eyes on the day he died occupied them now.

"It's your turn, Madge," his gravelly voice declared.

I tried to push him away, but my wrists still felt bound. I felt warm tears on my cheeks and I struggled harder than before. He kept moving closer, and I cried out in fright.

> > > > >

When the sound escaped my lips, my eyes opened. I was so groggy. The first thing I saw was an unforgiving, bright sun. I still felt something around my wrists and ankles, and looking around I saw that I was being carried by Zigzag and Squid over the lakebed.

Don't touch me! I wanted to shout, but the words formed a jumbled clump and hung on my lips. They hadn't noticed that I was conscious and were talking.

"This is weird, man," I heard Squid's voice say as he adjusted his grip on my ankles.

"What is?" Zigzag asked him.

"_That_," Squid replied, pointing to a spot on my right ankle. I slid my eyes over to where he was pointing. There was a massive red hive on the skin of my ankle. It was so big that it was making it's way up my shin. I resisted the urge to sigh; I was just waiting for those to show up.

"I have no idea," Zigzag admitted. "It's probably from the scorpion."

"The scorpion stung her on the other ankle, dude."

Zigzag stopped and bellowed, "I know that!"

Squid stopped as well and laughed. "Relax, I was just joking."

Zigzag glared at him, then started walking again. "Come on, we need to find someone to help her."

They didn't talk anymore until they reached the camp. I had my eyes closed to try and block out some of the blinding light, and they still hadn't figured out that I was awake, so I just went along with it.

"What are you boys doing back?" I heard a gruff voice shout. It was Mr. Sir, oh boy.

"She passed out, Mr. Sir," Squid said immediately.

"And?" Mr. Sir replied.

Zigzag and Squid were quiet for a moment.

"She was stung by a scorpion. She passed out. She has a rash. I think something may be wrong," Zigzag said quietly.

Mr. Sir finally said, "Bring her in 'ere."

I felt myself being carried into some room. It was just as hot in here as it was outside, and it was getting hard to breathe in this heat. I was carefully laid down on a sagging old couch, and I instantly realized where I was: the Wreck Room.

Mr. Sir grunted and bent over me on the couch. I opened my eyes and saw his ugly face examining mine passively.

He grunted again, and said, "She's conscious. Got a nasty sunburn, but that," he pointed to my ankle and all over my face, "is heat rash. Said somethin' 'bout that in her file.

"Well, boys," he stood up and started sucking on more sunflower seeds. "Cool her off and keep her out of the sun. But I still expect 8 holes by the end of the day."

After one last glare at them, Mr. Sir strutted out of the room, leaving me lying dizzy on the couch and the two boys confused.

> > > > >

Zigzag and Squid carried me back to our tent and laid me down on my cot. It smelled so musty that I gagged. Zigzag laughed at the face I made, then fell back on his cot beside mine. I sighed deeply, thinking again of the dream I had earlier. It was so terrifying, seeing his face like that. I didn't want to remember...

"What are you doing?" I asked him tentatively as he placed his hand behind my neck.

He gave me a smile. "What I should have done a long time ago."

He squeezed the back of my neck, and my knees gave out as he hit a nerve. His other arm scooped down under my legs and picked me up. I tried to scream out, but my mouth just hung open in shock. What was he _doing?_

Carrying me out of the art room, he stepped out into the empty hallway. My brain was firing off commands, but my body refused to respond.

_Oh God, oh God, oh God..._

He carried me across the short distance to a janitorial closet. When he reached for the doorknob, my body finally got the message of his intent.

_Move! Now!_

I kicked my left leg down, hitting his hip. He stopped and grabbed my leg, but I only kicked even harder with my right leg, this time hitting him in the crotch. He doubled over, slightly loosening his grip on my body, and I pushed him away from me as hard as I could. He recovered in just enough time to grab my wrist and the doorknob at the same time, open the door, and fling me inside. I stumbled and ran into the cement wall, knocking bottles of cleaner off the shelves.

He closed the door behind him, and leaned against it to catch his breath. I had slid down against the opposite wall, cowering and panting. Slowly, he turned around to face me. His eyes... he had that horrifying look in his eyes.

"Ohh," he chuckled and shook his head. "Now it's your turn, Madge."

I gasped as he stalked closer. My voice a mere squeak, I said, "Don't--don't come any closer!"

He laughed at me again and said, "Not a chance."

I squeezed my eyes shut as he jerked me up by my arms. He twisted my wrists, and I felt tears of pain slowly leak out of my closed eyes. I felt the hard cement wall through my shirt, and its cold touch kept me alert while my emotions were swelling.

He had quickly let go of my wrists to unbuckle his belt, and I reflexively took a chance and shoved him again. I didn't get far at all, because his foot tripped me and I fell flat on my face. An angry growl came from his throat as he pinned me to the ground. I was now on my back, being crushed by a man easily twice my weight. I gasped for breath as he grabbed my chin, forcing me to look into his grey eyes. A storm of emotions raged in those cloudy eyes, and I sobbed at the raw evil in them.

As his hand covered my mouth, I bit down hard. He barely even acknowledged my teeth, and fumbled with the buttons on my pants. I was so scared, so horrified, that I just lay there motionless. I had no idea what to do, what I could do.

I cried and cried into his hand, not having the strength or will to do anything more. Never in my life had I shed such despairing tears as I had in the moment.

He sighed loudly,and looked me in the eyes again.

"If you'd just shut up, this could be over so much faster."

My sobs quietened. Not from his words, but from the new emotion that filled me: Rage.

I was angry at him for ever setting foot on this planet, I was angry at every time he would make an example of me in class. Mostly, I was angry at how his smirk, a simple gesture, would remind me so vividly of my father and his arrogance. And now this... This was nudging a teetering crystal vase and expecting it not to fall.

Something in my head screamed, and my hands flew to his neck. With strength I never knew I possessed, I squeezed his neck in an attempt to choke him. He gagged and coughed, and I only squeezed harder.

For an almost imperceptible moment, his cloudy eyes cleared and flashed fear. It wasn't much, but it was enough to snap me out of my state of mind. My grip loosened, and my eyes stood wide open in shock. He brought his hands up to his throat and coughed furiously. I still lay there in amazement at what I had almost done.

While he gasped for air, I felt realization dawn on me. I knew what I had to do, finally.

My hands once again went for his throat, but this time I went nails first. I dug them deep into his skin as he hissed in pain. I slashed at him like a rabid feline, and I kept slashing and slashing and slashing until there was nothing but bloody, shredded skin left. He was screaming in pain, but nothing could compare to the yell that escaped his mouth when my nails sunk into his neck and ripped out his throat.

> > > > >

I sat up with a violent jolt. Silently, I started to cry,when I heard a light cough. I looked to my left and saw Zigzag sitting on the edge of his cot.

"Are you alright?" He asked quietly.

I shook my head and started to sob. Zigzag stared at me, not sure of what to do. For lack of better options, he just kept sitting and gave me sympathetic looks. I had never replayed what had happened to me that day, at least not all of it like that. Bringing my hands to my face, I angrily wiped my tears away, only to have them replaced a second later. Zigzag shifted on his cot, and looked around the tent uncomfortably.

After a few minutes, I had calmed down and regained my voice. In a lifeless tone, I asked him, "Where's Squid?"

Zigzag focused on me again. "Oh, he went back to digging. I told him I'd meet him in a few minutes. I wanted to make sure you'd be all right."

I nodded slowly. I didn't even care that I was in a tent alone with a boy anymore. If I was going to be hurt again, I was going to be hurt again. There wasn't anything I could do about it.

"I guess I had a bad dream," I answered his unspoken question.

"I didn't even know you were asleep, you're eyes were open."

I gave him a confused look. I must have been asleep, I didn't remember anything but the horrible flashback. I just shook my head and said, "No, I was awake. I just--" I didn't finish my sentence, because I saw movement outside the tent. Figuring it was just campers coming back from digging, I brushed it off. That is, until I saw who was casting the shadows outside; Gothic Guy. Well, actually his name was Albus. With a quick glance at Zigzag and a mumbled, "I'll be right back," I hopped off my cot and ran outside to catch up with him.

He was a good 20 feet ahead of me, so I jogged up to him and grabbed his arm. He turned around quickly and looked down at me.

"I figured you'd want to talk to me," he said with a small smile on his face. It was a warm smile, surprisingly.

I cleared my throat and asked, "Why do I keep running into you?"

He grinned. "Well, it is quite a small camp..."

I frowned. "You know that's not what I meant. Why do things get weird whenever you're around? In the mess hall, the wreck room, this morning, what's going on?"

He gently pushed my hand off his arm and took it in his. I felt static shock crawl up my arm.

"I don't think you deserved a lot of the things you've been put through. I hope you don't mind, but I sort of... 'tapped' into you're little dream earlier." His voice quietened. "That was awful." He looked deeply at me.

My eyes widened. "You what? Is that why I felt asleep?" I was so confused that what I was saying wasn't making much sense.

He smiled sweetly, but answered a different question, one I hadn't asked yet. "I saw Zigzag and Squid carrying you across the lakebed, so I followed after 30 minutes or so. I heard Mr. Sir explain what was wrong, so I went and got this," he pulled a medicine tube from the pocket of his orange jumpsuit. "This should help you're skin in the sun. I have something else that can help, I'll give it to you later in the Wreck Room."

With another flash of his kind smile, he turned and started walking away. I held the tube of cream limply in my hand, which was still slightly numb from the static burst.

I was dumbfounded; I was so very confused that it hurt to try and think about it. I was no closer to understanding his effect on me than before. Sighing deeply, I turned around to come face to face with Zigzag.

I let out a small yelp, but otherwise contained myself and asked, "What?"

Zigzag stared off behind me, seemingly at nothing. He then looked down at me.

"He wasn't messing with you, was he?"

I finally got that he was talking about Albus. "Oh, no... I had to ask him something, that's all."

I was getting good at lying through my teeth.

Zigzag glanced at the spot behind me again, then shrugged. "Okay. Anyways, Mr. Sir said you need to get some rest, maybe you should go back to the tent and lay down..." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly while talking. I reasoned it was his nervous habit, then nodded and walked back in the tent. He followed me, just sticking his head through the tent flap.

"I'm gonna go finish digging, do you need anything?"

I stopped what I was doing and looked at him. Obviously he was embarrassed enough just asking me the question, so I spared his ego and shook my head.

He nodded and left.

I sat on the edge of my cot, looking around the tent. How many more days left in my sentence?

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End of Seventh Chapter

That seemed a little short, sorry. I just wanted to get something out, and I felt that what happened was important to everything in the end. Am I the only one angry at fanfiction . net for attacking songfics? Personally I like them; I even have a few written. How come they aren't recognizing them as part of the fanfiction community? Okay, enough of that rant. Review, please. It really helps give my muse a swift kick you-know-where.

P.S.: Sorry about Mr. Sir's dialogue, it reminded me more of Hagrid than Mr. Sir. And also to **Magpie-Detonation**: Albus' name meaning isn't a great big secret, it means "white". If you want a good imagery of Albus, look at Gerard Way of My Chemical Romance. And no, before anyone asks, I did not base him on the singer, because I started writing this story way before I even knew who the band was. I just think that the singer favors my idea of Albus a lot.


	8. Repulsive Reminiscence

Wow, I've had a massive ego boost! Thank you guys so much for all the reviews, especially timeconsumer, who sent me what was possibly the longest review I've ever gotten! And I'm very sorry about the huge gap between updates; my alter ego thought it would be funny to separate my muse from me with a brick wall...

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Chapter 8: Repulsive Reminiscence

The school bell echoed down the halls, and my eardrums were close to bursting as all the students ran out of the school. I wasn't in any hurry, and just sat at my desk, lazily gathering my things before slowly walking to my locker.

12...4...21...

The lock popped open, and I slid it out of the catch. After shoving all my school books inside, I grabbed my thin art notebook and slammed the door shut.

I slammed it again. This school was so old, nothing worked right.

After 3 more slams, it finally closed, and I replaced the lock. I cut across the empty hallway to the Art room. Knocking quietly on the door, I was greeted by Ms. Swindez, a tall, sweet lady with golden blonde hair and a smile just as bright. She grinned and opened the door wider, allowing me to enter and set my things down beside a lab table. The room used to be a science lab, and the school was too cheap to make a room solely for art classes.

"You'll be alright on your own while I go finish some work in the teacher's break room?" She asked me while trying to wipe a smudge of blue paint from her cheek. She was painting a mural for the teachers.

I managed a small smile and nodded, setting up the half of a paper-mache sculpture I'd been working on for extra credit. She grinned, a few strands of hair falling out of her bun, and called out before leaving, "Alright! Come get me if you need anything, Madge."

I took off my jacket and bracelets and set them on another table, before grabbing the stack of newspaper and some plaster. Once I pulled on an oversized T-shirt (an art smock according to the cheap school board), I began working.

At least, I tried to begin. I was stuck for ideas. I was supposed to be making a sculpture to represent school spirit, but... I wasn't getting any further than the few students I had already made.

Two hours later, if you can believe it, I was still in the same position. My brain just wasn't processing creative ideas well. I shook my head and cursed quietly, ripping my smock off and tossing it across the room.

A knock on the door made me turn my head. I fought to keep the foreboding at bay when I saw Mr. Richards come in the room. What did he want?

"Mrs. Swindez is in the teacher's break room." I nearly whispered out. I really, really didn't like the way he made me feel.

He shook his head silently. "I'm not here to see her." He walked closer, only a yard away from me now.

"What are you doing?" I asked him tentatively as he placed his hand behind my neck.

> > > > >

I felt a calloused pair of hands shaking me gently.

"Madge? Do you want to wake up?"

Now that was a dumb question.

I slid my hands around and felt the dingy cloth of my cot beneath me. The open sores on my hands stung as God knows what kind of bacteria and germs entered the wounds. I hissed in pain and sat up. I honestly didn't remember falling asleep, let alone laying down. Looking up, I saw Squid standing by Zigzag's cot, leaning forward to reach me. He jerked his hand back like he had been bitten.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked him. He was standing far from me, like I had a disease.

He snorted. "Excuse me if I don't want to be castrated for trying to wake you."

I almost laughed. He was serious, too.

"My nose is still bruised from last time," he continued. The tiniest whisp of a smile graced my lips before evaporating, and I mumbled, "Sorry about that..."

I swung my legs over to edge of the cot. Squid hung around awkwardly, before mumbling something and exiting the tent. I stood up, still exhausted, and felt my face. I couldn't tell if there were still hives on it, but a few lingered on the back of my hands. My ankle throbbed painfully to life, reminding me of the day's occurrences. I continued to walk through the pain, even though I knew I should have lain back down. I needed to stay out of the sun, but I couldn't stand being in this awful tent another minute.

Pushing the tent flap aside, I slowly made my way to the Wreck Room. From the sky, I guessed it to be around 4 or so, not very late. A few voices were drifting out from the direction I was headed, and for a split second I contemplated going back.

No, I need to talk to him.

I wanted to know what the deal was with Albus, and why he affected me the way he did. I had gotten next to nothing out of him earlier.

When I thought about it, though, I really had gotten something out of the conversation. For one, he had some freaky mind-reading thing going on, and he had something to help me with my skin.

So okay, maybe I didn't get that much out of it...

I felt the pocket of my jumpsuit for the tube of cream. Looking closely at it, I realized it was blank; no medicinal name, no ingredients, no measurements. There was no label of any sort. I wasn't going to put anything on my skin until I found out what the heck it was.

I stepped up into the Wreck Room and crossed the floor, my pathetic camp-issued boots clunking against the ancient wood. Heads turned and watched my every move, but I was determined to talk to Albus, and nothing was going to stop me.

I spotted him in the far left corner, talking with Mr. Muscle from yesterday. His friend was makes wild gestures, obviously recalling some event. Albus was leaning against the wall, arms folded and staring at the floor, yet still paying attention to every word. I bit my lip and started right for him. He looked up and smiled gently.

I can't do this.

I turned around and ran out of the Wreck Room, not seeing his disappointed stare.

> > > > >

My feet carried me while my brain was out to lunch. Every instinct in my body was screaming to run faster. Why did he affect me this way? I was sick of the strangeness, the unfamiliarity of the situation.

I found myself sitting on the edge of the platform to the showers, and thankfully no one was there. I ran my shaking fingers through my hair, feeling the dust and dirt that had gathered in a single day. I couldn't just sit here and start crying like a baby; I had to take control of my emotions before they controlled me.

Everything seems to be a chain reaction. If I hadn't been attacked when I was thirteen, then I wouldn't have been arrested. If I hadn't been arrested, I wouldn't have had to suffer the humiliation of the trials; the horror of the screams every night in the mental ward. I wouldn't be here, in this God-forsaken camp, in a desolate desert digging until my hands bled. It all seems to hinge on that one event; that one violation that went too far.

"You're right about one thing, you know."

I lashed out at the sound of his voice. He caught my wrist and sat down beside me, gently lacing his fingers with mine. I stared down at our hands dumbly, my mind barely comprehending the contact.

"The world is made up of chain reactions," Albus told me. "Everything has an initialing action, and everything has a breaking point." He also looked down at our hands and squeezed mine. "You're lucky, Madge, because your breaking point might not be that far down the road."

My mouth still hung open slightly, trying to take in his words before they disappeared, beyond my grasp forever.

"You and I are more alike than you think," he smiled comfortingly, and I came back to my senses.

"Wait, what?" I asked. "What do you mean? I'm still trying to figure out what you meant earlier..."

He smiled down at our entwined fingers, and spoke quietly. "Just that your train of thought was right. The way you are when you're upset, it's almost as if you scream your thoughts." He paused. "Like that time, three years ago..."

All the breath left my lungs. "...What...?" I gasped.

Albus looked deeply into my eyes, and I saw that his were shining with unshed tears. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you, Madge. I couldn't get to you; you were on the other side of the building. I could feel what was happening, and I just... I didn't get their in time..."

I stood up, ripping my hand from his. "You were there?" I asked, my eyes starting to water as well.

Albus stood up beside me. "Yes, I went to that school, too. I was a year ahead of you, but I recognized you the moment I saw you. I've dreamed about you, Madge. Ever since I was little."

I shook my head, not wanting to believe a word he said. It was all too strange, too massive to handle. I turned around and ran away.

"I'm supposed to protect you, Madge! I have to save you!"

His voice echoed through the camp and I shook my head violently, denying his words as I ran faster.

> > > > >

I slowed down in front of the Wreck Room, and before I could think, walked inside. The boys of D-Tent were still scattered about, playing pool or talking with other campers. My nerves were frazzled and I didn't want attention. I looked around once more, and saw Zigzag sitting on the floor, staring at a blank TV set. Choosing to ignore this bizarre behavior, I slowly walked over and sat on the floor about two feet from him.

He never once glanced at me, or said anything. It was like he was in a trance, staring into the darkness of the broken television.

I took a deep breath and sighed, drawing my knees up to my chest. A few campers nodded my way. One shouted, "What's crackin', chicka?"

Your skull, if you don't shut up and leave me alone.

They gave up when faced with my silence, and I looked over at the TV again. It was still blank, but Zigzag looked as intrigued as ever. "What are you watching?" I asked, my voice croaking.

"_The Simpsons_," he answered, eyes still glued to the screen. "It's a re-run, but..." He trailed off.

I nodded, not bothering to point out the fact that nothing was on the screen. Good for him if he had a vivid imagination.

My eyes closed involuntarily, the pure mental exhaustion taking over. I could feel the fears and thoughts of the past hour creeping up on me, but I dismissed them before they could settle. I just _couldn't_ think about that right now...

"Oh, wait," I said out loud. "What about my hole? Oh no, I never finished digging..."

"Zero finished it for you," Zigzag said, looking over quickly. "He didn't say anything, just dug the rest for you." He turned his attention back to the TV, isolating himself from this world once more. I was shocked at his words; why would anyone finish something so grueling for me?

I saw Zero hanging by the doorway. Once I caught his attention, I collected the energy to smile genuinely at him. He nodded my way, walking out of the wreck room, hands buried in his pockets.

That kid was such an enigma.

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End of Eighth Chapter

I've decided that I'd like to be a beta reader, so if anyone's interested, check out my profile page. I've got details posted, plus you can check out some of my other stories. I don't own the Simpsons, so no one get offended.

And remember: Flames are not enough to warm my cold heart.


	9. Salt for the Wounds

Good. Grief.

I'm going to keep this author's note short, because I know no one wants to hear why I've taken so dang long to update this. So here you go, the (VERY MUCH SO) long-awaited ninth chapter.

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Chapter 9: Salt for the Wounds

I went to sleep that night with my cheeks stained from tears. Just when I had thought I could never cry again, one more salty tear would roll down my face. Looking back, I saw that I had been in shock. I just went into the Wreck Room, having convinced myself that nothing had happened. But once Albus walked in later, the illusion shattered and I ran out sobbing. I knew everyone was talking about me, but I just fell onto my cot and tried to stop crying. Of course, that didn't work. I'm just thankful that the rest of D-Tent left me alone until the tears ceased, and I fell into a horrified, fitful slumber.

The next miserable morning, I mechanically got ready for the day. I had never even changed out of my work clothes, so I pushed aside the tent flap and walked toward the mess hall. It was hard to believe I hadn't eaten for days, and was still walking. I needed food, and now. No matter how bad it looked or tasted.

"Guess what, boys," a gruff, nausiating voice said. "Yer gettin' cereal t'day."

Whoo hoo.

I mechanically swallowed the slimy gruel they called cereal, all the while keeping my eyes lowered as everyone glanced at me. I heard the whispers of a few boys, things like, "I thought she was supposed to be all hardcore" or "She's just a crybaby." If only they knew...

I'm not _trying_ to be some ice queen here. Come on, if you'd been through half of what I have, wouldn't you feel the way I feel? React the way I do?

Maybe I'm just whining...

> > > > >

D-Tent dug in silence that day. It was... awkward, to be sure. I was used to them talking and goofing off, but they were strangely serene. I constantly felt eyes on the back of my head, and I would catch sideways glances from X-Ray, or Zigzag or Squid. Too emotionally drained to be angry, I merely kept digging.

My already blistered and sore hands were re-awoken with new senses of pain, and I bit my lip till it bled from the stinging. The rough wood grinding against my fresh wounds, it was torture. The sun was insanely oppressive nearing midday, and I nearly crawled to the water truck when it came around with lunch. I was ravenous, and I ripped open the little container of fruit and juice I got. My toes barely brushing the bottom of my hole as I sat on the edge of it, I sighed in exhaustion and sipped the sweet nectar.

After scarfing down my sandwich and nibbling on the stale cookie, I struggled to my feet. My knees nearly gave out when I put pressure on my ankle, still throbbing from that demonic sting. I was the first one finished eating, and I tossed my trash in the garbage bag in the back of the truck. Mr. Sir eyed me warily, but finished filling the last of the canteens and shouted for the boys to hurry up with their food. I collapsed down into my hole once more, and it took every bit of my will to pick the shove back up, and not just fall down to die.

Once everyone finished their food, Mr. Sir cranked the engine up and sped away in a swirl of dust. I covered my nose and mouth with my hand, still coughing every time I breathed it in. When it settled, I forced myself to slice into the earth once more, and with shaking arms, lifted the next shovelful of dirt out of my hole.

> > > > >

A few hours passed. The sun had already peaked at its highest point, and I could feel the blisters on my neck. God help me, no one deserved this misery. This was Hell. _This_ was the eternal damnation that countless souls will suffer. Digging day after day, hole after hole, five fucking feet deep and five fucking feet wide... and with this shovel, I cursed myself to another day.

"Don't think about it, you know, how long it's gonna be," I heard a voice say.

I looked up, and squinting through the hot haze, I saw Squid. He was squatting on the edge of his hole, nearly finished. He was also squinting, and glanced over the horizon.

"Sometimes it's better to thing about somthin' else. You know, like something you like. If you think about all the holes you're going to have to dig this whole time, you'll just go nuts."

I was mildly stunned. That was quite profound for someone who looked like their greatest ambition was to own a monster truck. He sighed and spit in his dirt pile. Yeah. Profound moment over.

Everyone was digging again. I reached up and wiped the sweat that was literally dripping off my face, and I'll never forget what I saw.

It was like a dream; he moved with such purpose that it was scary. A half-barefoot Barfbag was walking across the dusty lakebed. He was looking down at something, and it puzzled me. I struggled to get out of my hole for a better look, but I was just too tired. All that had kept me going so far was necessity.

X-Ray spoke up, talking to Barfbag. He asked the question that was on everyone's mind, was he alright? Did the sun finally drive one of their own mad?

Someone caught sight of Barfbag's destination. They stood up, screaming at him to stop. Barfbag reached his bare foot out, and everyone heard the rattling and the hiss, all before the mournful scream echoed my feelings as a hopeless camper.

> > > > >

I didn't find out what happened to Barfbag until I got back to camp later that day. I crawled and stumbled a lot, but I finally did make it back. I had never felt so filthy in my life. I grabbed a shower token and stripped down to my underwear, not caring in the least that I was on display. This place had truly changed me, and in such a short period of time.

I didn't bother with soap. It would only sting the burns, blisters, lacerations and scrapes that covered, what felt like, every inch of my body. I slid the clean jumpsuit over my sopping body and stumbled into the tent. It was still fairly sunny outside, and I collapsed onto my cot. Staring up at the canvas, I closed my eyes and just lay there. I was too tired to even pity myself. How sad.

I sat up and sighed heavily. What is there to do around here? I never quite found out. I heard something echoing on the air. I--oh, God help me, I I know /I that can't be what I thought it was... It... it _couldn't_ be...

I stood up, my aching body recharged with curiosity as I clunked to the Wreck Room. As I neared the doorway, my jaw dropped as my suspicions were confirmed. Of all the music that could play on the radio, the campers were listening to... The Backstreet Boys.

I don't think I need to convey my wide-eyed shock, let alone my disgust. And worse, everyone was hanging around like it was nothing. Barely anyone recognized that any music was playing at all, save for one guy who was slowly bobbing his head to the beat.

I don't know what came over me. Maybe I am an ice queen, wanting to make each and every last person suffer, but I walked over to the radio and reached for the power button. My wrist was snatched away, quick as lightening, and I was face to face with a guy. A _big_ guy.

"Who says you can touch that, you little bitch?" He fumed.

I was too shocked to even notice what he called me. I was only going to turn it off. If they wanted music that badly, for the love of God, just turn the station...

He twisted my wrist and shoved me away, making me crash against the pool table, the wood most assuredly bruising my back. The brute turned the music up higher, as if to spite me. I shook me head and turned around, only to have someone grab my upper arm and nearly drag me out of the building. I shouted indignantly, and turned my burnt neck to see Albus dragging me.

For a split second, I panicked. This guy knew what happened, said he dreamed of me. Frankly, that petrified me. I didn't stop struggling until he let go of me on the porch. We were out of sight of the inside of the room, and he bent low to talk to me, looking stern.

"I know, the music sucks, but that's Thlump's lifeline, don't mess with it."

Pardon?

Albus sighed at the look on my face and explained. "All the campers here have something that keeps them going, that reminds them that there's still a world out there. A lifeline." He snorted. "Don't ask me why his is a crappy CD, but it is. He needs his lifeline just as much as you need yours, so don't cut it, alright?"

I nodded slightly, barely understanding what he meant. My mind had rushed back to last night's conversation, though, and I couldn't quite focus on talk of music and cutting something.

"Sorry," I mumbled distractedly, trying not to look him in the eye, but finding it strangely hard not to. He smiled gently, the very same way I've come to know him to.

He nodded and said, "It's a shame how we're too far away to pick up radio signals. Having to endure _that_ music is punishment enough."

I smiled slightly, then it dawned on me; I had no idea what Albus was here for. He could be a murderer! Or a rapist! Real smooth, Madge, just wait till he drags you into a hole and...

I stifled a shudder and pushed those thoughts out of my mind. I honestly didn't feel that from him. If he wanted to hurt me, he would have by now.

"Come on," Albus said quietly, lightly nudging me to follow him. We were headed toward the opposite side of the camp this time, near the far side of the mess hall. As if reading my mind (of course), he spoke up, "It's a little shaded over here. We can talk by ourselves." He looked back at me, almost mournfully. "And there's a lot to talk about."

I nodded and sighed. He was right. He was very right.

> > > > >

I was stumbling quickly down the hallway back to my bedroom. In my rush to not be late for school, I had forgotten something very important; my book bag. Funny how I forgot things I needed most when rushed...

"Madge?" My grandmother's rusty old voice carried down the hall from the living room. Her squawk reminded me of a parrot. "Aren't you going to be late?"

I fought the urge to roll my eyes and called back, "Yes, I'm leaving now." After grabbing my bag and sprinting back down the hall, I ran out the front door.

"Oh, shit," I mumbled and raced back inside to my grandmother. The bell rang at 8:00, I should have been there already, but I had to tell her I'd be home late, or I'd never hear the end of it. I found her sitting rigidly on the couch, watching a talk show on TV. "Grandma, I'm going to stay after school today. I have an extra credit art project to finish, so I'll be late getting home."

She turned her head and stared at me, her gaze making me feel invisible. I shifted my feet, wishing she would hurry and say something so I could go. I really didn't need to be late again.

After what felt like forever, she nodded slowly and said, "Child, is something wrong?" I shook my head rapidly, desperate for her to tell me it was alright to go. If I ran out before I got her permission to leave, I'd be "disrespecting" her.

She continued her stare, and finally said, "It's not safe for a 13-year-old girl to be wandering on her own after dusk." I nodded hastily, and replied, "I'll be home way before that, Grandma."

Her penetrating stare was giving me chills, and I just wanted to be out of there. She nodded again. "Be good at school, dear." I sighed in relief and nodded, running back outside. I looked down at my watch and slowed to a walk. What was the hurry? It was 8:03.

> > > > >

> > > > >  
End of Ninth Chapter

sighs I love you all. You know that, right? I love each and every single one of you who reads this. I don't give enough attention to my wonderful readers and reviewers.

... group hug?


	10. What Would You Do?

Hi all. I want to thank every one of you who took the time to read my story, to comment on it, to encourage me and to complement me on its content. I'm even glad for the people who hated it.

I'm writing this to say that, as of right now, I cannot foresee any more chapters of Fallen Faith. To understand why, you can read this:

I started writing this story on an instant. All I remember is typing out the first bloody lines that still live in my memory. This story was my catharsis for what I was going through at the time; my parent's divorce, becoming homeless as a result of that, the rejection of family members and of my own father, the heartache of leaving the last 5 years of my life behind in Atlanta and transplanting my unstable self in Florida. Fallen Faith was a product of my obvious need for escapism and the growing urge for justice I felt.

In the story, Madge falls victim to an atrocity that isn't easily forgotten: attempted rape. I lived through a similar, though subtler, event: battery and molestation at the hands of one I once thought loved me. Like Madge, I felt the stinging injustice as my aggressor walked free and secure, while I and my family were sent to the shelter without a second glance from the legal system that claimed to help us.

I'm not telling you this for pity; I don't need it or want it. I just want you, the one who reads and enjoys what blossomed from that pain, to understand from whence it grew. Madge is coping with being thrown into a situation far beyond her comfort zone. She's dealing with things she cannot comprehend (such as a guy who cares for her, and is determined to protect her without any clues as to why). She is opening to situations and emotions that she'd never noticed before, such as social interactions, however forced they may be. She is searching for her breaking point, as Albus puts it, and she has no clue where to start.

Therefore, I'm saddened to tell you that I've reached my breaking point before Madge. It is bittersweet, for I'm finding it hard to draw back emotions that I've long healed from. I know, I know; this is excellent breeding ground for a Mary-Sue nightmare. I suppose that's up to you, the reader, to decide. Nevertheless, I again want to say how wonderful it is for you all to have said such amazing things about Fallen Faith. Just writing got me through a lot of shadowy patches. I can never match the giddy excitement of checking my email and seeing a review waiting to be opened.

In this sense, Madge Estele Delaney is more real than most fanfic characters. I believe she'll continue with her story as I go along with mine. This is not a definite end to the journaling of her existence, but for now, I think I'll let her live on in your memories and in my mind. She's still at Camp Green Lake, but she won't be there forever.

Aimze


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